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I was just a twinkle in my mother’s eye,
when Churchill made his victory speech in May 45’,
one of liberated Europe, and better days ahead,

much brighter sunrises, now that Nazism’s dead.
Neighbours held impromptu parties, dancing in the streets;
red, white and blue bunting flew, jolly times, indeed.

Madge Daly made spam sandwiches; Mrs Adams blew up balloons,
Bert Harris wheeled his piano out, played all our favourite tunes.
Bill Higgins lay on a keg of ale for all to toast the King.

The vicar peeled the church bells, ‘Boy did he make em’ ring!’
But for whom did the bells toll? The living or the dead?
A thank you to the good Lord, for our daily bread?

A time for deep reflection? Mrs Mills, for one, I know,
her husband Peter, lost at sea, was absent from the show.
Young lassies took the train to town to celebrate and share

their happiness by singing songs in Trafalgar Square.
Dancing with returning heroes, giant Congas formed,
uniforms and civvies embraced, honeybees swarmed.

Steam from a kettle, white doves released,
strangers kissed and hugged to celebrate the peace.
As dusk fell searchlights lit the stonework all around,

Nelson watched with pride, high above the ground.
It’s our generation’s turn to remember VE day with pride,
offer ‘Merci’ for the lives laid down, for all those that died.

Thank you for your sacrifice to keep European nations free,
we remember every one of you on Sunday when we pray,
your gift of peace and liberty, bestowed us on that day.

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